Sioux Talk
by ashford2ashford
Summary: Awake from a nightmare at last, Alfred Ashford discovers the devious Wesker has again teamed up with genius William Birkin...but why can't Alfred feel his legs anymore?
1. Rockfort Rebuilt

**Sioux Talk by Ashford2ashford **

**Disclaimers: **By now, it's second nature to know I don't own any of this! But Sioux is mine! Oh yes. I claim the snake at least!

**Rating: **PG-13…because it's not developed enough to be classed as anything else!

**Pairing (s): **None implied surprisingly!

**Timeline: T**hree years after the disaster. If anything, in between the end of the Resident Evil games and before Resident Evil 4, but when do I ever follow a timeline?

**Summary: **Alfred Ashford wants nothing more than to settle down three years after his incident at Rockfort, but there is someone out there who wants otherwise. Someone Alfred never even thought about but knew of…someone who knows him more than he ever let on…

**AN:** Well…what can I say? My first fic with Wesker in it (not mentioning character diaries!) I hope I've captured his personality for all you Wesker fans…

**Important Notes about the Fic: **Again, no particular timeline. Just to stress this. And my information about the Umbrella connections between Wesker, Birkin, and Alfred have come from playing the games…not reading anything else…so…meh…enjoy…

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Alfred stands on his balcony, leaning over the rail with his arms folded, his beautiful blonde hair ruffling in the wind. It is early morning, and he is still in his dressing gown - a blue cotton one Alexia bought for him one Christmas - the rising Sun just over the horizon of the ocean around Rockfort. He can see it now, and when he looks over the entire island from atop his balcony on the outside of the castle, he feels at peace.

It's always quiet at this time, and with the grass rustling, the wind blowing gently, and the sea birds calling in the brisk morning air, Alfred feels calm and gentle. Around his neck lies the sleeping form of Sioux - curled around the young male's shoulders, coils gripping gently around his arms and shoulders, and head resting lazily on it's Master's chest.

Gently, Alfred runs his fingers across the slumbering snake's coils, feeling the warm slick scales beneath his fingertips, relaxed and enjoying the feel of the early morning.

This has now become somewhat of a ritual for him, this early morning vision never tiring. He breathes his breath on the cool morning air, seeing the warmth in the cold around him, and then leans fully on the balcony, his hands now resting upon the white painted iron bar around it. Yawning, he once again pets the snake around his neck, this time causing the snakes tiny green eyes to open lazily, looking around for a moment and then yawning and sliding gently around on the male's shoulders, sliding inside the dressing gown for warmth - Alfred smiling as the snake settles down across his chest once more.

Today, he has decided, is going to be a good day.

As the Sun reaches out over the water with waves of gold, Alfred turns and retreats into the safety of what used to be his father's room, yawning and stretching his long arms out either side of him, his bare feet padding across the soft green carpeting, and feeling the shape beneath his robe's shoulders stir as he does so. Gently, hardly making a sound, he crosses the room and makes it to the door. It's quiet in the castle, yet the Sun streams in through new stained glass windows, making colourful patterns dance on the red carpet rolling from the doorway to the stairs. Smiling when he sees this, Alfred takes a left from the door and goes up a long winding balcony, up stairs, until he reaches the door that leads to the twin bedrooms.

Within minutes, he is stood in his own blue themed room, disrobing gently, allowing the dressing gown to fall messily onto the back of a chair near his desk. The snake around his neck and shoulders blinks and then tastes the warm air inside the heated room, slowly sliding across the naked shoulders until it is wrapped firmly around Alfred's left arm, reaching down from it as if it were a tree branch. Alfred smiles and then raises his arm, bringing the snake's small head to the same height as he. The snake's tongue tickles his nose for a brief second and then its eyes gaze into Alfred's, in some way listening to Alfred's soft cooing voice, as he strokes the top of its head lovingly.

"You _are_ beautiful aren't you? Yes…you are…you…are…"

If the snake understands the Ashford, then it gives no sign of doing do, sliding down the arm, around his neck, and down the right shoulder to his right arm. Giggling, Alfred allows it onto his bed, his naked form leaving it there whilst he begins to dress in his normal attire of royal reds and gold. As soon as he is sure he's dressed properly, he takes a blue comb and some gel and runs both through his bed messed blonde hair, sliding the hairs back into his normal slicked back style. The snake watches him, as though fascinated by the very idea that humans cover themselves in this manner, as though protecting what is natural.

When he is finished, Alfred turns and retrieves his snake from its position on the bed, wrapping it round his neck in mockery of a woman wearing furs around her neck. The snake settles into position around him, its warmth spreading into Alfred's neck, and then curls its coils around the upper portion of his left arm.

"Come on, Sioux." Alfred murmurs gently, unsure of whether the snake understands him. It was a pun in itself that Alfred had given his snake the name. He had read that in tribal language 'Snake' was 'Sioux' and 'Sioux' was 'Snake'. In a normal person's ears, they would think that its name was rich, exotic, and favourable for a snake. In Alfred's perspective, he had unoriginally called his snake 'Snake'.

Of course, it did not appear that Sioux minded its name (I use the term 'it' loosely, as Alfred really was unsure of whether his pet was a boy or a girl). Then again, it appeared that Sioux didn't mind anything as long as it didn't mean effort.

The pair, the man and the snake, passed the rooms of the castle, passed the bridge and stairs leading down the hill, and even passed the palace's rooms, until both were standing (rather, one was hanging) in the courtyard of the front of the Palace – the newly fixed up gates in front of them leading to a fountain and then past that, the fields and trees. They were, Alfred had decided, going to go to the fountain today – not that Sioux would complain – and relax.

It had been approximately three years since Alfred had met his gristly end at the wrong end of a pair of sub machine guns, and Rockfort was back to what seemed to be its former glory. Surviving against all odds, the young male had found his way back here and had decided to start a new.

Using all funds in his private account at Umbrella – not knowing that two days after he had done this, Umbrella went broke once and for all – he had built up a new account and had begun to change the entire island back to what he wanted it to be. He had kept some aspects of the prison and the military training base, but had concentrated even more on the grassy areas and woodland areas that had been obscured by the prison-like walls of the base.

Rockfort had become a paradise of wild flowers, grassy fields, glorious fountains, clean and prosperous gardens, and with sufficient soil for growing crops and the like. Just to enjoy the luxuries he, as an Ashford, craved, he had also planted fruit trees of all origins, making sure to take care of food and water before the arts (for once thinking with his head and not his noble pride).

Not long after he had declared the island finished, he had taken a trip to Southeast Asia and had discovered a small egg buried in the sands underneath the vegetation near a river, and had decided, with some instinct, to keep it and hatch it.

Thus the bond between snake and man had been forged.

The egg had been a remainder from a Burmese Python clutch – a late bloomer. Now Alfred had a two foot long Burmese Python to keep him company. He had bought books from the mainland on the handling and caring of snakes and had even winced a little in fear when he had learned that it would grow to be at most twenty feet long.

It was merely a youngling now, only a month or so old, but it would grow every single day and soon Alfred would have to build an enclosure sturdier than the one he had now for it.

Matters for another day in Alfred's eyes.

He lazed over the fountain and let the snake ease its coils into the warm water, the small creature swimming and darting about quicker than it would when on foot (so to speak). The snake flickered its tongue out this way and that, and simply didn't acknowledge anything for the moment.

Alfred Ashford lay back and stared at the sky, occasionally feeling the warm scales brush past his fingertips as one hand trailed lazily in the cooling water. He had plenty of time to lie back and truly _think_ nowadays. Without Alexia, without Umbrella, without anyone; Alfred had time to create – he had taken an interest in the arts (music, art, swordplay, etc) and had read copious amounts of books since then.

Of course, what did remain was the loneliness. Even with the snake, Alfred was truly lonely, and this is what made his life incomplete. He often cast his mind back to think of the people he had met.

James Cooper – Agent Hunk – had been his first friend, so to speak. The strong willed Umbrella Agent had once upon a time taken residence on Rockfort as an officer in the Rockfort Military training facility. Hunk was six years Alfred's superior, and Alfred recalled that, as a small fifteen year old boy, he had admired the officer as being the only one on the island (apart from his dear sister) who was worth respecting.

Upon joining the military only one year later, Alfred had earned himself a place among the veterans as the 'Baby'. The youngest in the military and the youngest in his dormitory. He had fallen in with Hunk's people, a nice bunch were it not for their filthy habits and their crude language. Hunk had made sure that Alfred was respected among them too, not because of his status in the Ashford family, but rather his fighting prowess and sniping skills.

Hunk was the only person who made Alfred glad to work under. He didn't mind having any superior as long as it was James Cooper.

He found himself missing the other man's company now. Even when Alfred had gone insane, Hunk still stood by his side (when he wasn't off on Umbrella's business) and had regularly visited the island to meet up with his old friend. Alfred realised that when Hunk was with him, Alexia's voice no longer spoke to him, and he no longer suffered delusions or hallucinations.

This, of course, didn't help his loneliness…

He was startled when Sioux suddenly slithered up his arm and onto his chest, so startled that he sat up…and gazed straight ahead at the figure dressed in black who was walking calmly and with purpose down the path towards him.

The figure could only be described as being dressed in black. Black boots, military in nature, black gloves, and a black jumpsuit. He even wore black reflective sunglasses that hid his eyes from view. The only colour apparent on him (and this startled Alfred a little) was the incredible pale tone to his exposed skin, and the styled bright blonde hair!

He walked with an air of confidence, of hidden strength, a man without fear…

Alfred shivered like a man with fear.

Much fear…

"Hello?" He called cautiously, suddenly regretting it the moment the words left his lips, noticing the grin slowly creeping its way across the blonde man's face. Lack of better judgement made him continue, "I do say…who you are? Tell me, what business do you have on this island?"

If the man heard him, he made no effort to show so, rather suddenly talking back in a rich, well spoken tone, one that was smooth to the ears, yet luxuriously deep and confident.

"I was told this island was deserted." He murmured, his voice cutting across the garden path, loud and unforgiving, "It seems that someone is still living here. Who would have thought it to be the presumed dead man? Alfred bloody Ashford. The insignificant worm from Umbrella. The one who thinks he owns the world…"

Alfred felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and he bared his teeth in a snarl, his eyes narrowed into slits, and his hand brushing Sioux's scales gently, yet nervously, "Who…are you?"

It wasn't even a movement…

Not even a blink of an eye…

What happened next happened like this…

One minute Alfred was staring at the other male, and then he wasn't. He blinked once and that was it. When he opened his eyes, the blonde man was stood next to him, and Alfred was suddenly thrown into the fountain, the snake hissing and instinctively moving away through the water – turning and looking at its owner in shock.

Alfred lay there spluttering for a moment before he realised that the man in black was stood over him, one foot raised onto the fountain's edge, one arm resting on his raised knee, taking off his sunglasses and pocketing them. He opened eyes, eyes like a cat's, unnatural, cold, dead eyes, reminding the startled Ashford of the experiments that seemed like a memory in his harsh history, and started coolly at the young blonde male.

"You know me…" He purred, leaning down; their noses almost touching, "…you know me very well, _Lord_ Ashford."

Alfred looked up with wide, frightened azure eyes, suddenly looking like a small child, "I don't…"

The other male winced at Alfred's eyes, as if face to face an Ashford was different than imagined, and then smiled coolly, staring with interest at the dripping wet Ashford.

"Yes, _Sir_ Alfred…you do. You knew me, and you knew my partner. You knew William Birkin. You knew what happened to him and you knew who his partner in crime was…"

Alfred then looked up, realisation dawning on him, and he was twice as afraid as he had been before.

"Albert?"

The other man laughed and then nodded, fluidly reaching down and pulling the thirty something year old male out of the fountain and throwing him onto the hard pathway.

"Yes, Alfred. Albert. How delightful it is to see you again."

"You…you're dead."

"As are you."

There was silence. Neither man spoke then, as if something had been said that muted even Alfred. Wesker stood, foot still on the fountain, and Alfred lay on the ground, trembling and wet.

"Senseless re-introductions aside," Wesker started, "I have a mission here, and it's just by luck that I managed to complete it so soon."

"What are you talking about?"

"I was sent to investigate Rockfort. There were reports of activity in the context of an Ashford jet flying over the skies of South East Asia (_The trip I took!_ Alfred thought _the one where I found Sioux's egg!)_ And that there was a steadfast increase in activity on and around the island. My people learned that there was a male fitting your description living here.

"Who would have thought it to be actually you? _The_ Alfred Ashford. The same Alfred Ashford who sat alone at Umbrella Europe whilst the researchers gossiped and talked over experiments. The same Alfred Ashford who drew in that little sketchpad of his without a care in the world! And the same Alfred Ashford who whimpered like a frightened boy when anyone made any physical contact with him, such as when William Birkin requests for his sister's company, and he flinches like a cowering dog.

"Such a prize you were. So unpopular, yet so much talked about because of the fact that you were on of two twins who were so alike, yet so far apart in personality. What an unparalleled delight it is to finally have you on the ground in front of me, still whimpering, yet…so interesting!"

"What do you want with me? You've found out who's living here! Now leave me be!" Alfred felt as though he was talking irrationally, but was far to terrified after Wesker's speech to even consider the effect his words might have on someone who had studied him so much without his knowledge.

Wesker listened…and then laughed again, suddenly pressing his foot down on Alfred's chest with increasing pressure.

"I can't do that, Alfred. You see…you've just volunteered to be part of 'our' experiments for a change." With another motion, he plucked Sioux out of the fountain and laughed gently, "And…well…let's just say…revenge is sweeter for me than it will be for you…"

Then there was pain in his head, and Alfred Ashford's world went black.

…

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Ashford2ashford: There we have it! The end of what I consider to be my best story yet! I hope you guys feel the same! See y'all soon! And I hope this pleases the Wesker fans!


	2. A New Way of Seeing

**Sioux Talk by Ashford2ashford **

**Disclaimers: **The snake is mine! That's all I have to say at least! Well…by that I don't mean I actually own a snake…although I DO want one….and it would be named Sioux for my own humour…..but what I mean now, is that I made up the snake. So if anyone wants to continue the fact Alfred has a snake in any stories….yeah….let me know…I share my characters with the world…

**Rating: **PG-13 Although this may be changed, I dunno…I'm not too hot with rating systems. It's strong disturbing stuff! On the plus side, it's the first time I've ever written anything like this!

**Pairing (s): **None

**Timeline: **Umm…last chapter, I said it was something like three years…I've changed my mind. It can be after RE4. That way, Wesker has his hands free for a while.

**Summary: **Alfred Ashford wants nothing more than to settle down six years after his incident at Rockfort, but there is someone out there who wants otherwise. Someone Alfred never even thought about but knew of…someone who knows him more than he ever let on…

**AN:** This is where the fic gets disturbing. Instead of writing random incest/yaoi/hentai in RE games - like I'm normally known for – I decided that I'd take the route of more…"What Capcom may have had in mind for RE companies and their freaky experiments".

**Important Notes about the Fic: **I got this idea whilst at Chester Zoo in the Reptile House. I love snakes. I had to give Alfred one. I also got this in mind when playing RE1 Remake and noticing that it's a recurring theme for Umbrella and other such companies to experiment on each other and stab each other in the back.

And for the love of god…no flames please. I fear you people. If you don't like it, don't read it! It's not hard is it? Just clicking that little back button and getting on with your life? Or is it? I'm not sure.

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**Chapter Two – An Experiment of Sorts**

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…

It was cold…and there was a bright light above his head, his vision slipping in and out of focus. His eyes rolled and he felt like someone who was coming round out of an anaesthetic, but it was different.

It was very different…

It felt like he'd woken up in the middle of the operation…

There were tubes in his mouth and nose, breathing for him, which made him want to awaken from this nightmare, awaken and just go far away from this feeling. This…artificial high that had been induced upon him by someone…maybe something?

His vision swam with images of people leaning over him in white suits with masks; like surgeons at a hospital! Inside him he did indeed feel like this was now his nightmare world, unable to move or even breathe for himself anymore. Worse still was the man in white who had the eyes of Satan. Perhaps it was a result of his drugged state, but one of those men had burning demonic eyes; ones that were staring into his own with fury and power.

If this was Alfred's hell…

Then that man…truly must have been Satan…

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…

The blackout…and then…movement again…

He opened his drugged eyes and saw the people leaning over him, felt tubes further down his throat, into his lungs, inflating and deflating, and not allowing him to breathe for himself. It didn't matter. He couldn't breathe for himself if he had wanted to. His throat was open and exposed – pinned back whilst some 'doctor' poked around in it, making him feel…strange. It was like he was numb from head to toe, but aware of where was being touched – more like feeling pressure rather than pain.

He tried to tell them that there had been nothing wrong with his throat, but bone and blood and tubes clogged his voice box, and he could do nothing but suffer silently under this painless operation.

There was pressure on his fingers too, as if his fingernails were pushing themselves slowly off the ends of his fingers, painless, but irritating and disturbing.

He couldn't even feel his legs anymore, no pressure on them at all, and his skin was _alive_! Crawling and shifting under the pressure of a few human hands. He felt his blood run cold at this, and tears were beginning to leak from his eyes.

Someone murmured…only…Alfred couldn't hear them properly as his ears felt…strange.

Then Satan returned.

A tube was inserted into his nose, the only feeling Alfred felt for a moment, and then there was a strange sound…like hissing!

Alfred's eyelids closed.

Darkness consumed him.

…

…

He didn't dream at all in his drugged sleep, but he was aware that he was a patient in this crazy game of Doctors and Nurses, and the game had gone too far. It had gone so far, that real drugs and real tools were being used. It had gone to the point where they _were_ performing surgery on him and they _were_ cutting him open and doing things to his insides.

Maybe he had died and gone to his own personal helpless hell where he was forced to try and guess what was happening to him, without feeling and without pain.

That would explain Satan being present at his operation.

Satan…the one who insisted he be kept asleep whenever he even dared to waken.

Alfred started to drift back into consciousness again and was suddenly aware of more things around him, like his senses had been given several thousand adrenaline boosts.

Still, it could have been worse.

At least he was completely numb whilst the operation had been going on, and all he had felt was that miserable, miserable pressure.

They were still operating on him.

Suddenly, something connected in an area near his head…and his nerves seemed to jump back into life!

That was when the pain began…

…

…

"He's finally awake."

"Hm. He reminds me of when I first awakened after my…death."

"We've both been there, William."

"I know, Albert."

"He looks confused as ever."

"No different from how he usually looks then. Poor little Ashford."

"It's an improvement, Birkin…how did you ever manage it?"

"Same way I managed to perfect my virus…patience."

"But the fusion of genes. Until I saw him, I never knew it to be possible."

"It was more than fusion, Wesker. It was the complete transformation of the human body into something non-human. It surpasses the tyrant series _and_ the B.O.W's in Umbrella's pathetic design. Up until now, people in Brazil, Africa, and many an Ancient race feared this creature in Myth and Legend…with my power…I have made it into a living nightmare!"

"You scientists. You always strive to make nightmares come true."

"How do you feel the operation went then, Albert? Perhaps some insight?"

"I administered the drugs to him to keep him in his slumber. He kept waking up during the operation – though I doubt you scientists even realised the time of day the way you were working."

"He's coming round quicker than I expected.

"The Ashford's may be made of stronger stuff than we could ever imagine, William."

"Alfred…Alfred Ashford…Alfred Ashford…Alfred…bloody…Ashford…"

It felt warm, suddenly, and there was a rush of air in his face, as Alfred Ashford slowly stirred from his drugged slumber, feeling wounded and somehow exposed. His first impression was that his eyes were already open, stranger than you might think, but he recalled a deep slumber, therefore how could his eyes be open before he was even awake?

Then there were smells everywhere. Smells so potent, to him, that he could taste them on his tongue! He reeled backwards and realised that his eyesight was poor, very poor, and he had gone from his perfect 20/20 vision, to a short sighted pair of eyes.

_This…this is not happening._

The hearing…the hearing was also dull, and he fancied that he could only pick up deep rumbling vibrations, so dull and continuous that he swore that it was a human voice! It was like talking to someone and having them talk back to you when your ears are filled with water!

_My legs…I can't feel my legs!_

He tried to move and discovered that he had become very sensitive and…well…his eyes glanced downwards, unable to close, becoming very painful, and he saw through blurred vision his hands, his arms, and his torso…they looked normal enough…but then his gaze cast further down, causing him to lean forwards to adjust his suddenly poor vision…and then he screamed…

…

…

_Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god._

Alfred was lay backwards over what felt like a rock, his back arched and his eyes staring unblinking up at the bright eerie light above him; the light that surprisingly felt so good against his skin, that he was mentally opting to stay here for quite some time.

He continued to hear the vibrations that were voices, one deep and dull, the other slightly lighter, yet both were still inaudible properly, but since he could not understand them, he was ignoring them. One arm was across his forehead, his hair messy and his skin…

Cringing, he sat up again and glanced down at the hideous malformed legs that were now his. From his torso downwards it was all tail…all tail…long and scaled like a…like a…

It made him sick to think of himself as a snake.

However, it explained a lot. Such as his lack of eyelids, his poor eyesight, poor hearing, his sensitive skin…and that hideous, hideous tail that was now flicking back and to as Alfred commanded it. It felt strangely satisfying to be moving again, and Alfred found that instead of his eyelids, he could use his tongue every now and then to act as a 'blink' of sorts. Again, the tongue was serpentine, and Alfred also found that his voice box had truly been altered, so far to the point that Alfred no longer felt he could speak in English anymore without hearing that hideous rattling at the side of his throat – a throat that seemed looser somehow.

There were plus sides he supposed. He felt strong – stronger than any human – and he felt fast. He was cold at times, but when he lay in that glorious light, he felt warm and energised. His sense of smell and taste were through the roof, and he felt – actually _felt_ – heat around him.

What drew his attention the most however were two patches of heat to his right – the ones that the noise vibrations were coming from?

_No harm in checking it out, I suppose._

He licked over his eyes once more and then tried to concentrate, tried to _listen_ with human ears, not serpent's ears. As if by a miracle, the noise volume rose and became audible once more.

"- slumber. He kept waking up during the operation – though I doubt you scientists even realised the time of day the way you were working."

"He's coming round quicker than I expected.

"The Ashford's may be made of stronger stuff than we could ever imagine, William."

"Alfred…Alfred Ashford…Alfred Ashford…Alfred…bloody…Ashford…"

He darted to the direction of the voices quickly, much quicker than the average human would have been able to react, and found his hands touching cold bars, and heard the voices call out suddenly and their heat moved backwards somewhat.

"Well…that was…unexpected."

"Are you sure you drugged him enough, Wesker?"

Alfred snarled in fury and felt fangs inside of his mouth, his…his…_coils_ shifting against the bars and ground, his head pressed against the bars, his eyes focused on the two blurry forms in front of him, and his hands gripping tightly around his steel prison.

"Lll…brr….t….We…kk…kk…errrr…" He spat out, his lips and throat barely forming the words.

"Hello, Alfred." Came the reply, "How do you like your new form? We've improved you in so many ways."

"_I've_ improved him in so many ways. Hello, Ashford…it's me, William…how's your bitch of a sister? Still dead? What a shame."

"W…ll…m…Bacckk…kk…nnn…"

Alfred slumped against the bars, choking with dry sobs, his seemingly massive frame shaking in fury, his coils wrapped firmly around the bars; his eyes – to William and Wesker – a sickening blue of fury and death.

"Wh…t…ammm…I…?" He choked, his lips – or rather maw – dripping with foam.

"You…you are…well…a serpent…a Naga if you would, Mr Ashford." Birkin cast a glance at Wesker, Wesker's hand wrapped firmly around the butt of his gun, looking down his glasses at the hideous snake creature that had once been Alfred Ashford.

Alfred shook his head, his shoulders on level, his neck bent – somehow longer, he fancied, due to the operation they had done on his spine. His eyes downcast miserably, his vision blurring and focusing as he tried to focus with _human_ eyes, rather than serpent vision.

"N…o…" He spluttered, his massive frame sliding down the bars in despair, "G…dsss…no…"

Birkin cast a sidelong glance at Wesker and then coughed, adjusting himself after Alfred's outburst, seemingly shaken and shivering. Wesker seemed nonplussed, merely lighting up a cigarette and acting as though nothing had happened. Both men stood in silence for some time, watching their experiment writhe in confusion and pain, before Alfred's slender body rose upwards to face them again; leaning on the bars with his eyes downcast and his hair tussled and messed.

"You…" Alfred fought to get his words out, trying to work past the vocal adjustments and his serpentine tongue, his words spluttering and slow, "Brrr…k'n. You…ssshould…b-b-be…deaddd…h-h-ACK! …H-how…rrr…you…alivvv?"

Birkin smiled, softly, and folded his arms, not getting too near the cage just in case, "I was bought back by Albert. The same way he was brought back. Of course, my body had to regenerate and grow back…I was slightly…_a head_ of my time! Ha ha ha. But enough about that. You too, I believe should be dead?"

Alfred slumped and made an unusual noise in the back of his throat, before uttering "Th…t…'m nt…sssurr…abo…oww..t…mysss…lfff…"

He wasn't entirely sure how he had survived anything really. He had awakened after what had seemed like an eternity, and was found to be…well…in moderately good health. Bandaged, bruised, and maybe a little scratched…but otherwise…fine. Shortly after that, he had done all that he could to rebuild Rockfort (**AN: See last chapter for full explanation**) and one thing had led to another. As for his survival…well…that was a mystery to even his mind. He recalled nothing, and remembered only a fraction of his life before then. Alexia had remained in his mind for a while, and her name had brought some comfort to him on those lonely nights, but he remembered only her awakening, and it being cold, and there was pain in his stomach and – _SHOT ME! SHOT ME! Damn little…cretin…shot me! _– for some reason he was crying – _Alexia…you're finally awake…Alexia! _– and there were names he for some reason hated and despised – _I won't forget about THIS Redfield…stupid boy…stupid damn boy! Shot me! Shot me…falling…dying…help?_ – but other than that…his memories were a jumble.

As he thought, Birkin and Wesker made no attempts to get anything else out of him, preferring to leave him to his own thoughts, instead of worrying him with questions that he was unable to answer. As usual, William was the one eager for the science of Alfred's new form, and Wesker seemed slightly unfazed by any of this, his attention on his cigarette for now.

"We will be running tests on your new form, Ashford." Birkin coughed, now the scientist, "You are the first success we've had in this experiment. You are a new type of B.O.W – the SE-001, codenamed: Naga."

"Why? Why…chhoosssse…mee?" Alfred gripped the bars furiously, snapping out of his daydream, his eyes narrowed.

"I was merely sent to investigate the sudden increase in activity on Rockfort." Wesker spoke for the first time in a while and put out the cigarette with one boot, combing back his hair with one hand gently, "Seeing you there with your pet…I remembered our experiments and decided to kill two birds with one stone. A test subject for the experiment and the DNA to do it with. Don't think you're anything special because of your name or rank. I merely saw an opportunity and took it. Nothing personal, Ashford."

Alfred tensed, "Ssssii…ou…xxx…wh..rr…issss…ittt?"

Wesker laughed, "Sioux? I'm going to assume you mean your snake. What an original name, Alfred. Is it Latin or something?"

"It'sss…Na…tvvvee…'N…diannn…"

"And what does it mean, pray?"

"…ssssnn…a….ayy..kkkeee…"

Both Wesker and Birkin chuckled and Wesker shook his head slightly, "Snake? That _is_ original. Well in answer to your question. Your serpent is fine. We used a bit of its DNA in your operation, but it is fine nonetheless. Would you like it back?"

Alfred nodded numbly and circled around in his 'habitat' restlessly, his eyes focusing on Birkin as Wesker exited the room.

He found moving in this form to be difficult at first, but soon brushed it off as nothing as his coils shifted upon themselves, making walking seem like a forgotten memory as he adjusted to his new 'legs'. Birkin watched him the whole time, making notes on a small pad, and Alfred smiled to himself, closing off all human properties and feeling the new sensations of his serpentine senses. His arms helped to push past otherwise impassable terrain to a snake, and both human and snake parts of him helped each other in movement and agility.

After a while Alfred's senses alerted him to the presence of another snake in the room, as well as Wesker's scent returning into the area, and he slithered over to the bars and stuck his forked tongue out at the intruders; tasting their scent.

"Here's your snake." Wesker murmured, seeing by the feral look on Alfred's face that there was no point in words anymore. He passed the snake through the bars and stepped back, motioning for William to follow, as the two exited the room, leaving Alfred and his 'pet' alone.

_Oh gods…Sioux…_

Alfred scooped up the snake in his human arms and whispered to it gently, able to smell and taste Sioux's unique scent. The snake seemed more relaxed than normal and wrapped itself around him gently, whispering back to him with the snake's silent tongue.

_Oh,_ Alfred thought, musing over the silent conversation, _So you're a girl!_

…

…

**Ashford2ashford: Author's Notes:**

**Well, for those who could not understand Alfred's speech in his serpentine form, here's what he actually was trying to say:**

"Lll…brr….t….We…kk…kk…errrr…" – "_Albert Wesker_."

"W…ll…m…Bacckk…kk…nnn…" – "_William Birkin_…"

"Wh…t…ammm…I…?" – "_What am I_?"

"N…o…" – _"No_…"

"G…dsss…no…" – "_God…no…"_

"Brrr…k'n. You…ssshould…b-b-be…deaddd…h-h-ACK! …H-how…rrr…you…alivvv?" – "_Birkin. You should be dead! How are you alive?"_

"Th…t…'m nt…sssurr…abo…oww..t…mysss…lfff…" – "_That…I'm not so sure about that myself…"_

"Why? Why…chhoosssse…mee?" – _"Why? Why choose me?"_

"Ssssii…ou…xxx…wh..rr…issss…ittt?" – _"Sioux! Where is it?"_

"It'sss…Na…tvvvee…'N…diannn…" – _"It's Native Indian."_

"…ssssnn…a….ayy..kkkeee…" – _"…snake."_

**So, thanks for reading, feel free to leave a review. No flames please. Sorry if it was a disturbing fic, but Resident Evil does have its disturbing moments anyway, so it's nothing out of the ordinary!**

**Ashford2ashford signing out!**


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